


Journeys by Bus

by KittyDorkling



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Explicit hand-holding, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, post-lockdown fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23982901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyDorkling/pseuds/KittyDorkling
Summary: Lockdown is over, and Crowley needs to get outside.[ETA: 27/6/20  This was read by The Ineffable Con and the recording can be found inthe first ten minutes of this video!They do a SMASHING job and I am so deeply flattered.  :D ]---
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 96





	Journeys by Bus

Crowley awakened to the chirping of his phone’s alarm and the glorious, familiar sound of traffic outside, angry car horns and the occasional yelling Londoner. Lockdown, it appeared, was over, and he had successfully slept through the whole thing. It was time to get out of his blasted flat.

In typical British summertime fashion it was raining outside, the sort of light spitting that made you feel like a tit with an umbrella up but still got you wet without one. He sauntered through the streets of Mayfair, jamming parking meters with a thought as he went, and considered where exactly he was headed.

He couldn’t go straight to the bookshop. That would be pathetic, and besides, the last time they’d spoken he’d offered to pop over and Aziraphale had flatly turned him down. No, a demon had to have some self-respect. Or at least pretend to. It was barely past lunchtime, still raining and while Crowley didn’t fancy getting any wetter, he didn’t want to go back indoors either. The whole thing was a conundrum, so it was without any real plan that he found himself waiting at a stop where the number 19 bus would shortly be calling. There were always plenty of opportunities for temptations on there, and he could look out the windows, and definitely not think about past meetings with Aziraphale. Perfect. 

Boarding the bus, Crowley waved a slim black plastic card at the payment doodad, ignoring the driver and other passengers’ attempts to hand him the paper ticket issued, and swung his way up the stairs to the top deck.

Where he halted so abruptly the passenger behind bumped into him.

“Angel?” he choked out.

Aziraphale was sitting exactly where they would usually meet for a rendezvous, his hands fiddling in his lap and his gaze cast down in the vague direction of the empty seat next to him. An air of melancholy surrounded the angel, and he didn’t look up until he heard Crowley’s voice.

“Crowely? What on earth are you doing here?” yelped Aziraphale, instantly flustered into something close to outrage. 

“Never mind that, what are _you_ doing here?” retorted Crowley, still fixed to the spot. There wasn’t a meeting, was there? That would be seriously embarrassing, but no. He’d checked his voicemail twice before leaving the house and despite a dozen or so missed calls, Aziraphale definitely hadn’t left a message, not at any point in the last two months. 

“I’m… well, I’m running errands, Crowley, I should have thought that was obvious. And I’m on the bus because, need I remind you, I do not have a motor vehicle. Unlike other persons I could mention.”

“Oi, do you mind?” said a voice behind Crowley, sounding equally displeased. “Some of us want to sit down.”

Scowling, Crowley stalked forward, and for reasons that could only be explained by the sheer discombobulation of suddenly finding his Angel in so familiar a spot that was nonetheless exactly where he had least expected to see him, he found himself swinging down into the seat directly beside Aziraphale.

“Oh,” said Aziraphale, looking, if anything, yet more flustered. “I usually imagine you behind… that is to say, if I were to imagine… sitting, I mean, you do tend to sit behind… but, ah, I suppose there’s really no need for such precautions any more…”

“What errands are you running, exactly?” asked Crowley, interrupting before the angel could get himself into any more of a tizzy.

“Um.” Aziraphale blinked for a moment, collecting himself, then sagged in his seat slightly. He looked careworn. “I hadn’t thought, actually. Just wanted to get out of the shop now that lockdown’s been lifted. I was getting a bit tired of sitting there alone, surrounded by all that cake.” 

“Haven’t eaten it all yet, then?”

“No. Rather gone off it, if I'm being quite honest. It just isn’t the same without... company.”

“Is that so,” said Crowley, allowing himself to sprawl a little more comfortably at last, one long leg extended across the aisle to casually inconvenience anyone attempting to pass. Aziraphale’s knee was warm against his own, and he savoured the tiny point of contact. It had been weeks now since they’d seen each other, not a long time in the overall scheme of things, but considerably more unusual since Armagedda-oopsie. It was nice to know the angel had missed him a little after all.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to…” began Aziraphale hopefully, letting the end of the sentence hang in the air unspoken.

“Right, yeah. Be good to catch up,” agreed Crowley. Not that he’d actually been doing much other than sleep, but that was beside the point. “Shall we get off at the next stop, then?”

Aziraphale hummed. He sounded unconvinced. “We could, of course. But I wonder if it wouldn’t be nice to, well. You know. Take the scenic route.”

“The scenic route. Of the number 19 bus.” Crowley forbore to point out that the route would actually take them further away from Soho the longer they travelled.

“Of course we don’t have to.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” conceded Crowley. “Whatever you like, Angel.”

Aziraphale was getting twitchy again, fidgeting in his seat like a toddler, which usually meant he was trying to make himself say something difficult. Crowley waited patiently, fighting down a smile of fondness. It was very good to see him, not that he was about to break the delicate equilibrium of their friendship by mentioning it.

Outside, the rain dribbled down the bus’s windows. If Aziraphale didn’t say something soon, Crowley was going to be forced to comment that it appeared to be easing off a bit now, and perhaps the afternoon might turn out sunny.

“Do you remember the bus from Tadfield?” Aziraphale burst out, almost a full two minutes later and just in time to save Crowley from talking about the weather.

“Vividly.” The word was out of his mouth before Crowley could think better of it.

Aziraphale laughed, slightly hysterical. “Same here, isn’t it funny? All the things that happened that day, and it’s that silly old bus ride that really sticks in my memory. Ridiculous, quite ridiculous.”

Aziraphale, Crowley couldn’t help noticing, had stopped fiddling with his heavenly signet ring and his left hand now lay slightly awkwardly atop his thigh. 

Well. That was likely to be the best invitation Crowley was going to get for the next century. Slowly, cautiously, the heart he didn’t really need racing at what felt like several hundred beats a minute, he moved his own right hand with the kind of precise care that would’ve won any Jenga competition on the planet until it rested, very gently, upon Aziraphale’s. The angel, still facing resolutely forwards, let out a tiny, shaky breath, and turned his hand over, lacing his fingers through Crowley’s and squeezing gently.

“Did you know,” said Crowley conversationally, as if something of seismic, Universe-shaking significance had not just happened, “that a modern London bus has a maximum speed of 65 miles per hour? And yet most of them travel at an average of under 10. In central London it’s more like 5.”

“Is, oh, is that so?” asked Aziraphale faintly.

“Which is to say, I suppose,” Crowley lowered his voice a little, “I hope this isn’t going too fast for you.”

“Ah,” said Aziraphale, turning towards him in surprise. He swallowed, took a breath, and slowly a tentative smile spread across his face, quite the loveliest thing Crowley had ever seen since the last time Aziraphale had smiled at him. The drizzle outside was indeed beginning to clear and a sunbeam slanted through the dirty window, illuminating the angel’s curls like a halo. “I see. No, my dear. I think perhaps this is going at exactly the right speed.”

Crowley grinned back, too elated to even pretend nonchalance, and risked a small squeeze of his own. After several centuries of breakdowns, cancellations, exceptionally slow progress, and the occasional reverse and re-routing, London bus journeys seemed a fairly apt metaphor for their relationship. 

The Australian War Memorial hove shortly into view, and Crowley reached up to ding the stop request button and stood, dropping Aziraphale’s hand from his. He started down the stairs while the bus was still slowing to a grinding halt, much to Aziraphale’s unconcealed dismay. 

“Come on, Angel. Sun’s out, we can walk back to yours through the park,” announced Crowley, ignoring the huffing protests behind him until they’d both disembarked and were standing on the pavement once more. He held out his hand to Aziraphale, who stared at it for a moment in confusion before suddenly smiling again, more widely than before.

“Goodness,” said Aziraphale, and reached to take it with a delicious little wiggle of joy. His palm was warm and soft against Crowley’s. “A walk through the park, you say? That sounds lovely.”

“And then,” said Crowley, with more cheer than he could remember since the world hadn’t ended, “I can miracle a few bottles over and watch you eat all that cake.”

Behind them the Number 19 bus rolled on along its route, the driver’s sciatica mysteriously eased and all its passengers feeling just that little bit more cheerful. It made slow progress through the London traffic, but it was definitely moving forwards, at least.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[video podfic] Journeys by Bus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243132) by [ClassicHazel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassicHazel/pseuds/ClassicHazel), [RhaegalKS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhaegalKS/pseuds/RhaegalKS)




End file.
